


Resistance

by BansheeLydia



Series: SterekWeek2015 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, Drabble, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Spaceships, character death isn't in the pairing, fleeting mention of character death, sterekweek2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 06:57:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5082073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SterekWeek2015: alt universe</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resistance

“Do you think they’re all dead?”

Stiles’ voice is soft, filling the cramped space of the bridge. It’s dim, the intermittent lights on the console the only source of light, casting flickering orange over Derek’s face every now and then. 

He’s still half plunged in the shadows, but Stiles can just make out the sharpness of his stubbled jaw, the heaviness of his brow and the bleakness in the one eye Stiles can see; Derek’s gaze is cast downwards to where his hands are clasped between his parted knees, his mouth tipped in a frown. 

“There were other ships leaving. Some people must have survived.” Derek’s expression, the soft, grave tone he uses, is a sharp contrast to the hopeful words.

Stiles appreciates it, that even now, after everything, Derek still tries so hard to protect him. To keep him away from the brutality that surrounds them. But it’s so, so pointless. Stiles stopped needed protecting when his home planet burned with his father and everyone he ever loved still on it.

He’s been moving ever since. Going from planet to planet, trying to find a home. But he never gets to stay; sometimes, it’s because the place isn’t right for him. Sometimes because he inevitably gets himself into trouble.

Sometimes because They come and do what they always do, what they did to Stiles’ home planet: burn it up for the energy. Suck every little bit of goodness from it – take the people that have potential for Conversion, kill the others. Raze it and move on to the next planet.

That’s how he met Derek, two years ago. A werewolf, bound in chains, left out on the street to die. Stiles isn’t much of a merciful person anymore, but he’d stopped, he’d released the werewolf from his chains, and kept walking...but the werewolf followed. Travelling alone wasn’t easy and Derek proved, over and over, to be good back up. 

Two years later, Stiles can’t imagine life without him.

They are the reason that Stiles and Derek are back in the bridge now. They’d only narrowly escaped this time. Stiles can’t help but wonder if next time they’ll be so lucky. They’ve been dancing away from death for so long now. It can’t last.

On the screen, Stiles can see the planet still burning. Bile rises in his throat and after a moment, he gets to his feet, switches the monitor off. The two of them stay in silence for a minute before he leaves the bridge.

Their ship is small. It’s junk, really; salvaged from an abandoned colony. Derek had fixed it up, Stiles added a few little advancements, but it won’t be long before the engines give up for good. They scream from the core of the ship, a constant death rattle. Steam rises through the metal grill beneath Stiles’ boots as he ducks into the small sleeping quarters. 

He knows Derek’s followed him, even though the werewolf is as quite as ever. When he glances up, Derek’s stood in the doorway, gripping the edge of it. He’s dirty – they both are, covered in soot and little streaks of dirt. He’s sweaty, too, his hair a mess and his biceps bulging where his tank exposes them. He looks as beautiful as ever and Stiles sheds his own shirt, holds out his hands.

“Come here.”

It’s routine, now, but it’s never not what it needs to be; a reaffirmation of each other, checking that one another’s okay. A celebration of their survival in the form of desperate kisses, clasped hands and quiet moans. 

 

Later, as they lie naked on the bed, sheets pooled around them, Derek rolls over to face him, curls a strong arm around Stiles’ waist to drag him closer. Stiles tucks his face against Derek’s neck, breathing in the scent there, letting the solid comfort of Derek’s body ground him.

“There’s an Earth colony,” Derek says quietly, “I was told about it, before...” he trails off, clears his throat gruffly. “There’s a resistance there. People getting ready for Them. People fighting back.”

Stiles looks up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s just rumors. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

It sounds too good to be true. There’s always been tales like that, ghosts passed from lips to lips, claiming of the existence of a resistance, spreading hope in little seeds on every planet Stiles has been to, but he’s never let himself believe it. It’s dangerous, to let himself hope. 

But Stiles thinks of that image on the screen. Of the fire they’d only just avoided being burned up in. He thinks of wherever they’ll settle next, and how long it’ll be before they have to leave there, too. He thinks of the rest of his life spent in space, hopping from planet to planet, always running, always trying to survive.

He thinks of not getting to have a rest of his life.

He grips Derek’s hand, meets his gaze. “Let’s do it.”

“Are you sure?” Derek asks. 

Stiles nods. “Will you come with me?”

Derek doesn’t answer; he doesn’t need to. Stiles knows now, with more certainty than he knows anything else, that Derek will always follow Stiles.

He’ll follow him to the end of the universe if he has to.

**Author's Note:**

> kirasmalydia.tumblr.com - come say hi? :)


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